


The Maestro of Your Body

by JacksWild



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Art, Love, M/M, Poetry, maestro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacksWild/pseuds/JacksWild
Summary: I got high. I painted. I waited for the first layer to dry. I wrote.





	The Maestro of Your Body

I'd never seen a more virile man, the potency of his body paralleled in the acumen of his mind. To be in his presence was to be drawn to the middle of a fire, the center of the Earth, the apex of the cosmos and a brand new nebula. He was like space in the moment, and atomic stars strewn across the sky, to be captured in the minds eye, and never able to be contained or controlled or understood. Never to be mimicked, never to be duplicated, never to be anything other than his own. His personhood a fortitude of the last of a kind. 

I'd never wanted anything more, and trusted myself any less. I wanted him with every fibre of my being, as if the joints in my fingers moved only for his pleasure, as if the beat of my heart pumped blood only for his desire, as if the pupils in my eyes only were blown wide only to take in the entirety of him. I had sought peace in the only way that I knew... solitude, lonely, silence, isolation. 

Even then, he was in the green of the trees in summer, the green of the grass in spring, the green of the water when the sun hit it just right. He was in the black of the night, the black of the ravens that flew over head, the black of the tiles on the floor. He was in the glint of the glass, the sparkle of the water when the wind drifted softly on its surface, the shine of the magic as its echo faded 'round my head.

I carved myself a life, piece of piece, forging a new life. A path solely my own. A reward in its own right, I was my own man. There was no one to answer to, often times I didn't even answer to myself. Listening only to the world, the way in which it breathed around me. But the solitude, even when my own choice, was its prison. I wanted to share the nights with him, share my heat with him, pour my soul into the cavern of his heart... and know that it would never find the bottom of his depthless love. I wanted to be lost in him, as much as I was when I was lost in myself. 

I never sought him, but his presence was a damnable presence in my existence. I would go to the city twice a year... for the experience and for ingredients, that I wasn't able to grow or cultivate in my own abode. I saw him not the first two times I went, but I felt his magic on my skin like a blade cutting the hair from my jaw, like the tingle of water at the end of showering, like the ghost of wind when not even the leaves rustle. 

It wasn't until the third time I chanced an appearance at the local pub that I knew of the magnitude of my propensity to be drawn to him. For there he was, sitting in the glow of the fire, the orange, harsh as it should have been against his green vision - causing them instead to tell the tale of a fire taking a mountainside. I had never been more afraid, more in fear of the man I was drawn to, than in that moment then my body moved as if drawn by an invisible totem... not to be stopped until I was incapsulated in the very center of this orchestrated masterpiece. Oh how I longed to play his body, wringing pleasure from him... making music with the drawn notes of his intake and exhale. I wanted to be the Maestro and I wanted nothing more than for him to be my instrument. 

"Severus," 

I had wondered in the missing years in the interim what his voice would sound like... what deep texture would wrap itself 'round his vocal chords and verbally relay his matured masculinity. I was nothing if not lost immediately, I would have gladly ripped my very soul from the confines of my body than to leave him again. To be alone would be the utmost waste of matter and time. I would be a void in the very process of living without him.

"Yes." My voice, rough and oft unused, was sure but gritty. I had not chosen many that I used my instrument regarding, in the previous two decades... and to my utter delight, I saw the delicate shiver and heat move through him. 

"I've been on a journey... I've been searching." My breath caught in my throat when those verdant crystals bestowed themselves upon my person. "Do you know what I've been looking for, Severus?"

I was entranced. I softly shook my head, unwilling to look away for more than a moment... 

"I was searching for the music. It follows me everywhere, just slightly out of key. When I bathe it's there in the water. When I fly it's there in the sky. When I live it's there in the very act of life. It doesn't sound right, though for a bit of time it was better... but never was it good." 

I watched in rapt horror and devotion as he stood up and his wine glass clinked on the table. 

"Do you know the damnedest thing, Severus?" 

I didn't answer... what does one answer to that?

"It's silent now... so silent, so, utterly, and, completely, quiet..." 

He took a purposeful step for each pronunciation. The last word whispered in my ear, the breathe of him making the tendrils of hair on my skin, moist. 

"Please, Severus... make music with me."

xoxoxoxoxoxSSHPxoxoxoxoxoxox

**Author's Note:**

> Commentry and Kudos are appreciated in all form. xxxooo


End file.
